Stormblessed
by Recurve
Summary: What if when Kaladin killed the Shardbearer, it drew a crowd? A crowd with Amaram in it, who had to publicly acknowledge that Kaladin won the Shards? What if Kaladin suddenly found himself as the first dark-eyed shardbearer in thousands of years?
1. Chapter 1

**I do not own the Stormlight Archives**

* * *

Kaladin looked down at the dead shardbearer.

That fact reverberated in his mind a bit. A dead shardbearer. The idea of such a thing was ludicrous. Yet here it was, Kaladin's spearhead jammed through the helmet slot. Kaladin stepped up to the man, carefully extracting the weapon, jiggling it back and forth a bit, before it finally gave with a squelch, like pulling a boot from the mud.

Kaladin looked at the man. The armor was... storms, the only word to possibly describe it was glorious, even with flecks of blood staining it. This set of shards was painted gold, like many of the light eyes he heard of in stories who painted theirs elaborate blues, reds, and oranges. Kaladin found the natural grey look to suit his tastes more than a decorative one. After all, it was a tool of war, not some thing to flaunt and brandish like a nobleman's fine garments.

The shardblade next to it was a simple design compared to some renditions he'd seen in paintings and depictions. It was long, curved, a dangerous and gleaming edge on one side with jagged waving lines on it's inner side. It shone like white silver, mist swirling off it like hot water in the cold. Resting at it's bottom, where the pommel should be, was a gemstone. It's hilt was full metal, a simple cross guard on it with no leather or cloth handle, but instead fully forged. Storms, where these things forged at all and not some gift from the Stormfather himself?

Kaladin picked up the blade like a boy holding a spear for the first time. He was nervous, timid, as though he might accidentally cut his arm off with it on accident. It was heavier than he expected. He'd been told they were weightless, but that appeared to not be true. They were, however, ludicrously light for their size. And the size! It was almost comical! The blade was a good five or six feet long, more comparable to a spear than an actual sword.

He glanced over to the corpse. Across the back of his foe was the sheath, having materialized with the sword after it's owner's death. It was of grey metal, like the blade, with swirling and ornate designs rolling along it's surface like waves. Kaladin gingerly pulled the man's shoulder back, heaving as he did so considering the weight of the armor, and slid the sheath out. He was careful doing it, having a senseless fear that the machine of a man beneath him would somehow come back alive and crush his throat under his gauntleted hand. He pulled the sheath free, letting down the blade against the grass, and sheathed it, looking at it in his hands.

"Rainmaker"

Kaladin turned to see High Lord Amaram standing, looking at Kaladin with wide eyes. A crowd was forming around them now, dark eyes, and a few light eyed officers intermingled, looking at Kaladin in shock.

"Bright Lord?"

"The blade" He said, somewhat mystified. "Many of us memorize which blades are which. The one you hold is Rainmaker, held by Jah Keved for centuries. What in the world is it doing here?" He pondered. Kaladin looked down to the dead man, pulling off his helmet to reveal a Veden man. Though the hole in his face obscured many of his features, the pale skin and red hair were there. Had he been hired as a mercenary? On such a simple border dispute? No, that didn't add up.

"I killed this man" Kaladin said, suddenly. He held up the spearhead, showing the wound. "I fell him. A shardbearer. My squad, I request that it go to the shattered plains, to join in the oath pack against the Parshendi" He said. Amaram opened his mouth, paused, briefly glanced about at the crowd, and then looked to Kaladin.

"Squad?" He said, befuddled, "You...you just killed a shardbearer. Your light eyes now! Storms, your a shardbearer now" He said this with a glance towards the shards on the ground "You'll be leading charges of armies, not leading a squad!" Kaladin looked at him. What were those shifting eyes just a moment ago? He shook his head of those thoughts. They didn't matter. What did matter was that he had this problem to deal with now.

He knew that this made him a light eyes, and he hated that fact. Light eyes caused the death of his squad, save a few scarce men. Light eyes caused his father to be made a pariah. Light eyes ensured that he wouldn't be shipped to the shattered plains, where real men with real honor led squads into battle. Light eyes killed his brother. Indeed, most light eyes were cruel, tyrannical, unfit for the position they had. He would not join them.

"Your name, son?" Amaram asked again. Kaladin blinked. At the very least, Amaram was a good man, what a light eyes should be.

"Sorry, sir. I am Kaladin. Second nahn" He said

"Well..." He said, almost hesitantly "Not anymore, it seems. You're fourth dahn now, with those shards in your possession" Kaladin took a deep breath, rehearsing what he was about to do, asking himself if he really meant to do it. He steeled himself, and then threw the sheathed blade over his shoulder at the corpse. Many in the crowd gasped, as though he'd just spat on the king's cheek.

"I'm sorry sir" He said, hesitant "But I refuse them."

"You... refuse them?" The man looked even more bewildered than before. It was not every day a dark eyes slew a mounted light eyes. It was not every day that he then went on to kill a shardbearer, on a minor border dispute no less. And it was certainly not every day that said man chucked the blade behind him and then refused the shards.

"Yes sir" Kaladin said, a bit more sure this time. "I do not claim them".

"...Why?"

"These light eyes..." he said, taking a breath and trying to calm his hostility in his voice at the phrase, considering the man in front of him "many have ruined my life... killed my brother... I know not all are like that, you sir are a shining example, but..." Kaladin trailed off. This drew a great number of murmurs from the crowd, people talking left and right. One of them shouted "I'll take them" And another shouted the same. Soon, those murmurs turned to shouts laced with a bit of hostility.

"Quiet!" Amaram said, voice booming. The crowd obeyed. Kaladin was grateful. A little more of that, and many of the men would have started darting for the plate and blade, possibly even start fighting. He took a moment to scold himself for forgetting how valuable these were. Nations warred over the things, after all.

"I'm not familiar" Amaram said "with customs on the law for... giving up shards after... killing a shardbearer, but if I am correct, then the shards go to the slayer's choice, and if he does not choose, they go to... the highest commander on the battlefield". Amaram looked away at this. Kaladin didn't blame him. Having to say that you were the rightful bearer of shards after having calmed men who all claimed to be rightful bearers of shards would make Kaladin feel hypocritical, even if the law said such things.

"I'm afraid" A man said, "It will do little good to give up the shards, young man" Kaladin looked over at a graying Ardent, the crowd parting around him. There were usually one or two, sometimes three, at any battle. They usually oversaw them and recorded while they burned prayers, requesting safe passage for those who died. It was a Vorin thing, one Kaladin had never really looked into.

"What do you mean?" Kaladin asked.

"The shards elevate you to fourth dahn, yes, but killing an enemy shardbearer is considered an honor of battle. In the older laws, shards always went to the highest commander of the battle, but some gift needed to be given to ones who slew the shardbearers, even in the rare cases that it happened. It wasn't until two hundred years ago when the convention of Alethi high lords at Kholinar decided that shards were given by right of combat, as detailed in section fifteen of-"

"Get to the point, Dali" Amaram said, a bit more sharply then Kaladin thought necessary.

"Yes, well" Dali said "Honors of battle automatically raise one's social status by a single rank, up to third dahn at most. If you are dark eyes, any honor of battle will automatically raise you to light eyes status. This includes killing an enemy lord or king, committing acts of heroism approved by the current high king, or...

"Killing a shardbearer" Kaladin said, a bit numb.

"Indeed. You can refuse the shards, but you will still be elevated to tenth dahn, with eligibility to further promotions. In this case, it would do you no good to not take them, and proceed to fourth dahn.

"I refuse the promotion" Kaladin said, panic swelling in him. The Ardent only shook his head.

"You cannot. It is law, created by the Sunmaker himself when he united Alethkar. I'm sorry young man, but your position is sealed"

* * *

Kaladin looked down at the fire reflecting against his armor while the servants fastened his shoulder pieces to his chest plate. The armor was heavy, far too heavy to put on conventionally, like regular mail or plate. As such, it needed to be assembled from the bottom up, so that the strength-giving properties of the plate would enable the wearer to withstand the weight as the armor was piled on.

Kaladin looked at himself in the mirror. The armor added a good hand-span to his height, and Kaladin was already tall, a little over six feet. He was almost reaching seven feet in the armor, and with the majestic plate on, he found himself trying to battle the fact that he looked like a storming divine-sent herald.

He hated that.

Kaladin hated this armor. He hated wearing it. Somehow, the very thing that he thought would give him his salvation was now shackling him. Oh yes, Kaladin Stormblessed, the one who killed a shardbearer with nothing but a spear and his battle sense! The one who secured Alethkar another invaluable set of shards, the one who was oh so resplendant as he stood like a storming herald! His only flaw was those two brown eyes in his skull, but don't pay attention to that! He was light eyes, of course! No dark eyes could ever hope to be a shardbearer! So we made him light eyes, to help drill in the fact that they're always more important than dark eyes! Why? Just because!

"Why am I wearing this, again?" Kaladin asked. Brother Pashil, an Ardent that Amaram had given him as a gift of his "new status", looked up from his scroll.

"Bright Lord Kala-"

"Just Kaladin, Pashil" he said for what felt like the hundredth time. Pashil sighed.

"Kaladin" He said with a pointed look, "You are a shardbearer. As much as you may be loathe to admit, you are a symbol now; A symbol of Alethkar's might".

"Were going into a war camp" Kaladin said. "I'm pretty sure the men will have seen their daily dose of Alethkar's might"

"It isn't simply that" Pashil said. "Kaladin, you are a symbol to all the dark eyes, and the light eyes alike. You must realize your position right now. This is the first time in centuries, possibly millennia, that a dark eyes soldier slew a shardbearer and became a light eyes. You are a symbol of hope to all of them. You show them that it is possible to do the impossible, to climb insurmountable obstacles. To them, they look at you and think 'I can become light eyed too'". Kaladin gave a faint growl at this, the fact that some _wanted_ to be light eyes.

"Oh yes" He said sarcastically. "And what of the light eyes, how am I a symbol to them?" Pashil looked around, and lowered his voice.

"Your not so much a symbol, but your arrival must be" He said. Kaladin looked at him, confused. "You are a... threat to many of them, Kaladin. A... proverbial encroachment on their territory. You are a light eyes in name only to many of them. Not many think you are worthy of these shards. Many will try to find a way to strip you of them, to take them, and your titles. You need to prove that you are worthy to wear this" He said, tapping his chest-piece.

"So to combat this, we're making a grand entrance" Kaladin said.

"...Of a kind" Pashil replied. "It's only our first step. Your impressive height certainly helps you cut a more imposing figure. The only other who reaches your height when wearing plate is, I believe, High Prince Aladar". Kaladin blinked at that. He was one of the tallest? He had actually hoped that his height would make the plate a wrong fit, but the storming suit actually formed to the user, growing where it needed to compliment his form.

"I would have thought I'd be one of the shortest among them..."

"It would be easy to think such, but no. Aladar is the tallest high prince, with High Prince Dalinar behind him, and-"

"The kings uncle?" Kaladin half said, half asked.

"Yes. Right now, he is partially your rival"

"What?" Kaladin said, surprised. "I haven't even got in the camp yet, how do I hav-" A figure opened the tent he was in, paused upon seeing Kaladin in his full plate, and then coughed.

"You're expected in one minute, bright lord". Kaladin gave a low grunt at the title, quiet enough that only Pashil heard it, and nodded his head at the man. Pashil turned to look at Kaladin as the man left.

"Well, Lord Dalinar himself isn't directly your rival, but... We'll speak more on this later. Right now, summon your blade".

"Why? I thought I didn't have to hold it anymore since it was bonded".

"A status symbol, Kaladin. We'll put it in the sheath, and you'll wear it at your back. You're making a statement by letting people see it".

Kaladin sighed, holding out his hand as he counted his heartbeats. This was a storming war! He was in a suit made for war, summoning a blade made for war, and yet all these light eyes were concerned with was petty politics and showboating! Why in the world weren't they just sending him to the nearest trainer right away, so he could become a battlefield asset as soon as possible?

The blade formed in his hand, condensation dripping on it's length. One of the servants stepped back, before coming towards him again, and slinging his sheath strap over his shoulder. Kaladin slid the blade in, careful not to knock it into anything as he did so. A servant hefted his helmet, and Kaladin took it in one hand, looking down. The helmet starred back up at him, and he paused, looking at it.

"All the world in a man's hand" He muttered, "Yet he cannot hold a thing..."

He slid the helmet on, sliding the face plate up as he did so. He wanted them to see his face, his commoner's features, and most importantly, his eyes. He wanted to affirm the stories, that he was a dark eyes, not a light eyes. He wanted to let them know that he had succeeded where so many others had failed. Let them gawk and point at the scandal of it all. He wanted them to do so.

Pashil walked behind him as Kaladin ripped aside the caravan tent's flap, light flooding his eyes. Beside him stood a horse, stout and firm with a large saddle on its back. Kaladin looked over to Pashil, who nodded. He looked back and sighed, before he slipped his foot into the stirrup, and hoisted himself onto the beast. He'd worried that the horse wouldn't be able to hold him, but it merely gave a harsh breath, before standing firm under his weight.

Kaladin made sure to gently squeeze with his leg on the horse's side, still trying to get used to his strength in the plate, as he pushed forward on the saddle, urging the beast on. It began a light walk, as Kaladin's caravan, save the ones currently dissembling his tent, continued behind him, Pashil directly behind and to the right of his horse. He looked down from the hill they were on.

The war camps were sprawled in a long row below him, trailing off in the distance, standing on the edge of the plains. To the east, he could see miles and miles of ravines and crevasses, zigzagging through the earth. On some plateaus were bridges, though these were only on the ones immediately by the camps.

They were currently heading towards the Kholin war camp. Though he belonged to Sadeas' army since he was under Amaram, he was to see the king first, who, being a Kholin himself, resided with the Kholins. Ironically, Kaladin found himself not so much anticipating the meeting as he did possibly seeing Dalinar Kholin. The Black Thorn was a legendary figure. Storms, the man was one of two people who united Alethkar!

And apparently he'd somehow gotten on his bad side enough to make him a rival.

Kaladin rode into camp, his entourage following him. They passed by a set of blue flags, the Kholin house symbol on them, as they came in. Everyone paused at seeing him. Some soldiers gave him a glance, before looking back down. Those ones had seen shardbearers before. Then, one of them slapped his friend on the thigh, and pointed to him. Specifically his face.

Kaladin rode passed the people, who all stopped what they were doing, looking at him. One of them dropped a bucket of water, letting it splash against the ground. Kaladin took this all in stride, looking straight forward as he rode. The people of the camp began to whisper. Before long, everyone was flooding the dirt street of the camp, coming to see him.

They all stood in silence, looking at him. Though he didn't let it show, Kaladin felt uncomfortable. He wasn't used to being the center of attention. The only experience he had was being captain of his squad, but that was different. Now, when everyone was looking at him in disbelief, some with awe and some with anger, he found that he had no clue what to do. He was just about to look over to Pashil for some form of support. Then, something odd happened.

As Kaladin rode through the shocked silence, hoping he was going towards... wherever the king was, he was stopped by a young dark eyed boy. The boy stood in front of his horse, a good couple yards away. What was a child doing in the war camps? He supposed families were here, but where were his parents? Kaladin halted his horse, looking back at Pashil, who looked at him, just as curious. Kaladin looked back at the boy, who was... was he crying?

Kaladin got off the horse, thudding to the ground. He approached the young boy, as the crowd watched him. The young lad had dropped his teddy bear into the puddle as he cried. Kaladin knelt beside him, picking up the bear as he did so.

"Why are you crying, young man?" Kaladin asked.

"M-m-mama said you wasn't real" He said "She said there wasn't no way a dark eyes became a shardbearer. You're just a dream, just..." Kaladin's eyes turned soft, as he gently smiled at the boy. The boy was voicing almost all the crowd's emotions. They all didn't believe it. Disbelief was dangerous. It could turn to jealousy, and anger very quickly. But if he did things right, it just might turn to amazement.

"What's your name" He asked.

"Wenth, sir" He said, holding up his arm to his eyes. Kaladin, very gently, lowered the boys arm, and made him look up at him.

"Wenth," He said "My name is Kaladin Stormblessed, and I am no dream" He said with a smile, as he handed the boy his stuffed bear. "Do you know why I'm in this camp?"

"Your helping with the war?" Wenth asked.

"Yes sir, young man. I'm here to kill those who took our king's life. But what about right now? What do you think I'm doing currently?"

"You're... gonna see the king?" Kaladin smiled.

"Good guess, young man. Yes, I'm seeing the king. And I already saw him" Wenth looked up at him "I saw him as I was coming in the camp. I saw him with a group of soldiers. I saw him with a woman who dropped a water bucket. I saw him a good hundred times now" Kaladin reached up, brushing aside the child's hair, and pointing at his eyes.

"And I see them right here" Kaladin said. "Today, these are king". The boy smiled at him, tears in his eyes as Kaladin rose and turned, striding towards his horse. Glory spren, like golden streaks, started floating among the dark eyes, among the crowd, and among Kaladin. As he got on his horse, one soldier started to clap. Then another.

And then the camp erupted in roars applause, as the dark eyes chanted Kaladin's name.

They rode on as men and women of the camp thundered with applause for Kaladin. A few light eyed officers looked at him in shock, but most of the crowd were dark eyed. He looked back at Pashil. He usually hated being the center of attention, but he found himself smiling at the Ardent nonetheless. The man simply smiled back, shaking his head.

"A bit on the flashy side, no Kaladin?" He said. Kaladin smiled in reply.

* * *

Kaladin crested the hill of the war camp minutes later, the roar of applause still lingering behind him. The hill was topped with a small palace, nothing impressive, but certainly a sight in this place. Outside of it, flanked by a few Alethi and tailed by some guards, was a somewhat short man wearing a crown, walking towards the entryway.

"I say" He said "What is all that racket in the camp? Wha-" He stopped as one of the guards tapped him on the shoulder, and pointed at Kaladin.

The king spotted him, and stopped, taking a nervous glance to the side as a few of the guards put there hands on their blades. That was more a token gesture than a real threat. Swords weren't all that useful against shardplate. The real threat was... yes, there. A man in blue, with what looked like his sons trailing him, was holding out his hand at his side, eyes narrowed, ready to summon his blade.

Kaladin stopped his horse, dismounting, and sending a few cracks through the stone as he landed. He confidently strode up to the king, as other in the group held their hands out as well, though that man's second son, and another man in red notably did not. Kaladin stopped, surprising them, and knelt, taking off his helmet.

"Your majesty" Kaladin said, eyes down "My name is Kaladin, the Stormblessed. I have come by your request to aid you in this vengeance pact, and bring justice upon the Parshendi for their crimes. I offer you myself as your blade, ready to use as you wish, and your shield, ready to defend you from any foe. My strength is now yours." He waited a bit through the silence, noticing some of the, what he assumed were, shardbearers look to the king, still at the ready.

"Ah!" the king said, eyes lighting up. "You must be that shardbearer that Amaram told me about over the span reed!". Kaladin blinked at the... informality with which he spoke. King Elhokar stepped up to him, motioning him up as he did so. Kaladin hesitantly rose, taking a glance towards the group behind the king.

"Oh yes indeed, he is dark eyed, Uncle! My, a dark eyed shardbearer!" The king said, shaking his head and smiling. "Who'd have thought it possible! But I suppose the world is full of wonders, is it not? And I also suppose you're a light eyes now!" He looked back at the group. The man in blue was smiling at him. He might be Sadeas.

"You'll have to tell me the story at some point!" The king said. "Killing a shardbearer with but a spear! I'm not even sure any of my high lords could do that!"

"Umm... Not much to the story, your majesty... I'm sure a lot of it was luck..." Kaladin said. The king waved him off.

"Oh, you're going to have to learn to embellish things if you want to survive the world of the light eyes! What's your name, again?"

"...Um, my name is Kaladin... Your majesty" The king shook his gauntleted hand.

"A pleasure, Kaladin!" He said, as the rest of the group stepped up. Kaladin, not really knowing what to do, saluted the high lords. The man in blue saluted back, as did the man in red after a moment's pause, some mirth on his wrinkled features. If he had to guess, that one would be Dalinar, his new rival.

"Not often do you hear stories of common soldiers killing a shardbearer" the man in blue said, "And then find proof of it right in front of your face" He held out a hand for Kaladin to shake.

"We get a lot of stories in the infantry, but nothing true. It's a pleasure to meet you, high prince. I am Kaladin"

"And I am Dalinar Kholin" He said. Kaladin jumped a bit at that. He was...? Well, the family resemblance to Elhokar was there, but the man's kindness surprised him. Wasn't this his supposed rival?

"Um... Kaladin..." He said. Dalinar chuckled.

"You have said such" He said.

"Sorry, bright lord" Kaladin said, looking for an excuse, "It's just that... storms, you're the Black Thorn! When I was a kid, me and my friends fought over who got to pretend to be you when we played war! Seeing you in person is..." He shook his head, as Dalinar laughed, clapping him on the back.

"Don't let all the stories sway you! Many are fake, anyway. I'm a man, same as you!" He said. Kaladin just shook his head, as the man in red stepped up to him.

"And I trust I was one of the positions fought over in the war games as well?" He said with a wry smile and a raised eyebrow. Kaladin took a moment to look him over, trying to discern his identity, before spotting the Sadeas crest on his shoulder. Of course. The red should have been a dead giveaway.

"Of course, Bright Lord Sadeas! Being the first ally to the king when he conquered Alethkar cemented that!" He said with a smile of his own, shaking his hand. Kaladin neglected to tell the man that his position was often the third or fourth one picked, only _after_ the good ones had gone. He didn't think the man would care much, but then again, he didn't know his personal Lord's attitude.

"You are under my jurisdiction, yes? We'll speak more on your position in my army later" Kaladin nodded, as Dalinar's son stepped up behind him, as did a younger man with the same resemblance.

"Personally, I'm just glad to have another shardbearer on the battlefield. Adolin Kholin" He said simply. Kaladin nodded at him, glad that at least someone was a little passed the pleasantries and wanted to get the war over with. His brother said nothing, simply nodding at him as he passed, and following the king as he beckoned Kaladin over.

"Come, Kaladin!" King Elhokar said. "Slaying any shardbearer demands a feast! And a feast you will have!"

* * *

Kaladin felt relieved to finally be out of his plate. Wearing it certainly made you feel like you could take the world, but after a while, it got hot and claustrophobic. Added to that, he had a drumming headache from the infinite amount of high lords and "important" light eyes that he'd met at the feast. After all, when one became a shard bearer, it was imperative that they meet the sister in law of the woman who's married to the second greatest sculptor in Alethkar.

Vital stuff, that is.

Kaladin sighed, laying down on his bed. He'd have to drop by his squad's barracks tomorrow morning. Or rather, his old squad. Now that he was fourth dahn, he was a second in command to a battalion commander in Sadeas' army, who's name was Laksal. He was one of the few light eyes he actually made a note of to remember when he was introduced. Though he didn't have Amaram's charisma and kindness, Laksal was just as professional and orderly as his old commander, if not more so. Kaladin supposed that was all he could ask for in a commander.

"Feeling overwhelmed?". Kaladin looked up, seeing Pashil leaning on the doorway.

"Over-tested on my patience, maybe" Pashil raised an eyebrow at him.

"Why's that".

"Because I should be nursing practice bruises right now, not a headache. That whole feast was just one fake smile after another. Of all the people I met tonight, not one of them was someone who would be teaching me how to swing a shardblade".

"You're eager to get into battle, are you?"

"No. I'm eager to actually fulfill the roll that I'm meant to do here. So far, all I've done of note here was see a king more interesting in celebrating than he was-" Kaladin stopped himself.

"Go ahead".

"No. Sorry, insulting the king is bordering on treason. I shouldn't speak like that".

"The Almighty values truth more than men's egos, Kaladin. Even king's egos. You're frustrated that the King isn't focusing on fulfilling the oath pact?" Kaladin didn't reply, but Pashil could see the point hitting home.

"When I was in Amaram's army" Kaladin said. "There was no time for feasts, or meeting important people. A man in a war was a tool of war. We were taught that was the case for all people, whether a light eyed officer, or a dark eyed grunt. But everyone here is more focused on pettiness than fulfilling their use as a tool of war to the best of their abilities. I mean, storms, I saw at least fifty officers at that feast drunk! Isn't that violation of the Codes of War?"

"And how frustrated do you think this must make the actual officers?" Pashil said. "The actual generals here looking to win the war? You're not the only one done with this all, Kaladin"

"And who else is?"

"Dalinar Kholin, for one I would think..." He said. Kaladin perked up at this "He's already stopped going on plateau runs due to the frivolity of them"

"Plateau runs?"

"Competitions, basically. A scramble to see who can retrieve large gemstones that grow in chasm fiend's chests. They pupate around these areas, which makes it easy for our armies to harvest them. The runs are more for wealth than winning the war, yet most of the battles with Parshendi occur over these runs".

"So were wasting our time securing gemstones instead of ending this war? Why not defeat the Parshendi, and then we can harvest as many gems as we want with no danger!" Pashil simply shrugged.

"Most of the high lords are dragging it out. The gems will start going to the court after this war is done, when there won't be a need for the high lords to secure them. They're getting as many as they can".

"Why doesn't the king simply order them to do the jobs they were sent to do?" Pashil looked at him, and just shrugged. Kaladin found himself getting angry. "And all the high lords do this? Even my current one, Sadeas?"

"He's actually the most notorious for this. But for your former question, and like I was saying before, Dalinar Kholin has recently stopped doing this, and not merely out of a lack of ability like some of the smaller high lords"

"Kholin..." Kaladin said. "You said you were going to explain how he's my rival right now. He seemed a good man when we spoke" Pashil sighed.

"It's... a bit complicated. You're not his rival directly, but Sadeas is his rival. And that means, by extension, you".

"He didn't seem to have ill will towards me"

"No, I doubt he will. But many under him will make an enemy of you out of devotion to their high lord. They automatically associate you with Sadeas, and therefor, a foe" He paused. "In fact, I would watch specifically his son, Adolin. The young boy is an accomplished duelist, and being a shardbearer with no knowledge of how to use them makes you a prime target for a duel"

"A duel?"

"To win shards" Pashil said. "Looser of the duel relinquishes their shards to winner, and you are quite vulnerable to that right now. However, Dalinar has strictly enforced the codes of war upon those under him, Adolin being one of them. One of the tenants is to avoid needless duels. Unless you bring some insult upon their house, then he won't have a way to win your shards"

"I expected people to try and take them from me" Kaladin said.

"I will warn you now. This will be taxing. You will receive not a few amount of insults day in and day out in an attempt to rile you. They want a response, Kaladin. They want you to insult them, so they can have a justified reason to duel you, where you cannot say no. As long as you hold your tongue, be respectful, and don't take any hostile action, then there will be no reason for you to accept duels from anyone, until you are competent in them. You will get requests from many nonetheless, but you can refuse them with little consequence"

"Anything else I should know?"

"One more thing" Pashil said "I don't think he'll pull anything overt, but... Sadeas... might try to go for your blade" Kaladin openly gawked at the man.

"My blade" He said to a nod "The high lord is petty enough to go for one of his lieutenant's blades?"

"I said he might go for it" Pashil said. "Sadeas has plate, but through all of his conquests, he's never had a blade. Normally, if he had an underling with a blade, he'd make no moves for it. But with you being a dark eyes..."

"Everyone would pretty well turn a blind eye to it" Kaladin said. Pashil hesitated, but then slowly nodded.

"He'd get a lot of insults, a lot of pressure, but if he laid low on the political game for a while afterwards, he'd probably get away with it" Kaladin sat in silence for a moment.

"Storms, could I just move my allegiance to another high prince?"

"You'd need to own land in their domain, or have a just cause for switching. Usually, this would involve you having a political rivalry with your current lord, or him taking some kind of malicious act against you. I doubt Sadeas will ever give you enough reason to legally do this, though. A shard bearer under his control is far too valuable". Kaladin simply shook his head.

"I'm too valuable to him, yet he seeks my blade" He thought for a moment. "What sort of logic is that"

"One that requires him, and you, to balance a lot of variables. You're mere existence has brought many problems on Sadeas' head. For one, you have incredibly boosted his army's value and prowess just by being in it. On the other, you have damaged him politically by breaking the norm while under his rule.".

"Sound's like they're his problems"

"And yours, by association. Kaladin" Pashil said, looking directly at him, "You are playing a great balancing act right now, where you have to maneuver to leave Sadeas, while also moving to prove to Sadeas that you're worth something. Or else"

"Worst he can do is take my blade. What'll he do, kill me?"

"..."

"He'd actually do that?"

"It... would save him a lot of trouble" He said. "If you had an... accident... then your blade and plate would go to him, since you have no legal heir. It would get rid of his political stress, while also maintaining the shards in his possession, and most importantly, it would grant him a shard blade" He pointed straight at Kaladin. "Your only options right now are either to become a masterful politician-"

"No"

"Then your only path" Pashil said "is to become a warrior so mighty, an asset so valuable, that you're worth more than the blade to him. You need to become another Sunmaker, another Blackthorn. You already have a grand namesake" Pashil said, taking a breath.

"Now you must make men tremble when they hear the name Stormblessed".


	2. Chapter 2

**00 Non C. Anon 00: Glad to provide the story! I was kinda in the same boat, where I really wanted this story to happen, but couldn't find it. In terms of your thoughts:  
** **1-** **Definitely, that's the fine line I'm trying to walk. The light eyes still took Tien from him, and all the stuff happened with Roshone, but his contempt isn't solidified completely yet, ya know? Not like it was with Amaram's betrayal. I'm definitely trying to take that into account.  
** **2- Kaladin's eyes still being brown further separates him from the light eyes, and helps refine the conflict of him being a dark eyes in a light eyes world. In either scenario, whether his eyes are dark or light, he's still a dark eyes at heart. But with dark eyes, it forces the light eyes to hate accepting him into their class that much more.**

 **xc44lh: Same. Thanks for the compliment!**

 **Trickstercast: Thanks! I'll be sure to check the grammar a bit more. To be honest, I kinda expected that feedback with the characters. I'm treating the story very casually cause I've been writing 100% on a lot of my own short stories I do, which pretty well exhausts me. This is more a breath of fresh air for me than a real try at a good, quality story.**

 **Malenk: I actually checked just now to make sure. He got the nickname in Amaram's army, and it resurfaced when he was in bridge four.**

 **sistertotherain: Oh neat! Thanks for the suggestions. I am taking into account Kaladin's character at this point. I'm trying to find the subtle differences between his personality pre and post slavery, and I felt like I could take a few liberties here and there. Kaladin himself said when he first started training the bridge crew in the chasm that he was a bit more sarcastic/quippier before his slavery. As for the eye thing, I'll refer myself to the top review. Someone else had the same question :D.  
Keepin' myself tight lipped on Syl though. You'll find out about her :D. Also, could you send me the link to that fragment thing you were talking about? I'd like to read it. **

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**General note: I'm going _very_ light on this story. I'm more writing it for fun than really trying to do a quality work. I suggest going into looking for brief entertainment, but not amazement. That being said, my treatment of the story does make me feel a little guilty, because it's a great concept and I'm not utilizing it to the fullest. As such, I will not lay claim to the idea. Any who wish to write their own story and treat it seriously, bringing the full potential out of this concept, go right ahead and write it. I will read it myself with a smile. **

* * *

**Disclaimer: Don't own Stormlight Archives**

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Kaladin looked at his plate. He had bled for this. His team had nearly been slaughtered for this. He won it on account of his skill, his endurance, and his utterly dumb luck. He hated having the plate. He hated what it had thrust him into. He hated that men now gawked at him, but nonetheless, he considered this plate important to him. It was his squads last gift, and if he didn't treat it well, if he didn't utilize it to it's best, they'd have died in vain.

And someone just went and painted it a lavish crimson.

Kaladin pinched the bridge of his nose. When he had asked to change his plate to normal, this wasn't what he was expecting. He didn't know the intricacies behind painting shardplate, but he imagined that "normal" wasn't a crimson red. Storms, he though they might at least ask him what color he wanted! At least get his opinion before they go an molest such a valuable possession!

"Who's responsible for this?" He asked a nearby servant. The man had presented this to Kaladin with a large smile. Upon hearing his words, that smile dropped like a stone, causing Kaladin to feel a tinge of regret.

"Um... we were, brightness... we thou- I mean, we-"

"It's fine" Kaladin said, "Is the paint removable?" The man looked hurt that Kaladin didn't like it. "It's not that it doesn't, uh... look nice, but I'm afraid it will make me indistinguishable from Bright Lord Sadeas on the battlefield".

"Oh" The man said, "Yes, well, it is removable, but we can repaint it a nice green, or a burnt orange, or-"

"Just the regular steel is fine" Kaladin said.

"You don't wish to have a color?" The man asked.

"No, just the steel. It's simply my personal taste. Thank you, though". The man hesitated, gave Kaladin his welcome, bowed, and went off to grant his request. Kaladin sighed, and took the sheath that hung on the wall next to his plate, holding out his hand as he did so. Kaladin turned, going back towards the entrance to the armory. Rainmaker appeared in his hand as he stepped back out into the small training grounds. The grounds and the armory was his battalions, the thirteenth, and he intended not to waste either.

He sheathed rainmaker as the wrinkled Ardent looked up. Koreph was a middle aged man, one that was under Sadeas' command and frequently trained duelists, and on occasion, shardbearers. Pashil sat next to him, watching as a scribe took notes near him. Koreph strode up to him, a practice staff in hand.

"Alright, lad" He said, "Let's start working".

Kaladin enjoyed training. He had to do a fair bit of it himself. As the day went on, and they went through their stances, it seemed as though this were no different than most training, despite the magnitude of the weapon he had. Kaladin simply took to battle like a fish to water. The blade itself was clumsy. The length was impractical for most weapons. It felt like he were holding a spear by it's end.

The Ardent was very agreeable to Kaladin. After having wasted so much time here so far, the man's militaristic, and tactical outlook on shardbearers was welcome. He was told that in addition to his practice, he would be read a series of strategies and tactics in histories that showed how shardbearers impacted, and participated in battles. He was looking forward to it. The sooner he could get out there, and actually do something, the better.

Eventually, he got the hang of the most basic form of wind stance. Kaladin found it similar to how he already fought with a spear; using speed and quick attacks along with thrusts, utilizing the full reach of your weapon, and always staying out of reach of your opponent. It kept him on his toes a lot, dodging back and forth, but it felt natural to him. He imagined it was even easier in plate, when one's endurance was magnified.

Kaladin wiped his brow, as a nearby servant offered him a pitcher of water. He took it with thanks. He offered some of it to the servant, who blinked at him, a bit surprised, before refusing. Kaladin was still trying to get used to people serving him. He found himself unintentionally treating them like cooks, or water runners from his old battalion, who held the same rank and status as him.

"Looking quite impressive, Kaladin" Pashil walked up to him, patting his shoulder. Kaladin took deep gulps of air, sweating through his shirt.

"That so?".

"Don't go inflating my students ego's, Pashil" Yamithar, the second of Kaladin's training ardents, said from across the grounds as he walked towards them.

"Oh, come now, Yamithar! He did do well!"

"Your not supposed to let them know that!" Yalimar said. "First step in building a student is-"

"To break them down" Kaladin said. Yamithar looked to him. "I've had a lot of spear training in the past, and even trained a few men of my own. I know when to curb my ego". Yamithar grunted.

"Then I suppose I can tell you the full truth with your assessment, instead of just your weaknesses". Kaladin poured more water over his head.

"Go for it"

"Your a natural at fighting. That much is clear. Probably how you won that blade. But your use of a shardblade is..."

"Didn't expect to be good first try" Kaladin said.

"It's more than that. You're... clumsy with it. Well, not clumsy, but... you were a spear man before?"

"Yeah".

"How good?"

"Trainers said I was best in my battalion. Some even said I was the best they'd seen"

"...Thought so. That's what I was seeing..."

"What do you mean?"

"I think that training is leaking over a bit. You're wanting to shift into spear stances, stab with the sword when your not supposed to, lots of stuff. I even spotted you reaching up to the middle of the blade a few times, like you were gonna half sword it".

"Had to deal with this a few times when I trained men. It shouldn't take more than a week or two, right?"

"I don't know. This is the first time I've dealt with this. Most people I've trained already used swords, you understand. Not many spear men get the blade" Kaladin nodded at that. Swords were a primarily reserved as a light eyed weapon. There would be a good deal of overlap between using that and a shard blade. But spears? Those were a different story.

This was similar to when Kaladin had to beat the bad habits out of fresh recruits. Except, Kaladin's entire way of moving, striking, parrying, and even breathing were now all one big "bad habit" he needed to break. Not only that, he needed to do this in a timely manner, so he could prove valuable to Sadeas. That meant every moment he could possibly spend needed to be done so with training.

"Alright Kaladin, next on today's schedule is another feast, held by King Elhokar!" Pashil said.

Kaladin sighed.

* * *

"The plate too heavy to wear today, _Stormblessed_?" A man said, stretching Kaladin's nickname.

Kaladin looked up from his food, spotting Remen, a young light eyed officer, approaching him from Roion's section of the king's feast. The boy had a big ego, and a big want to prove himself. He'd taken to goading Kaladin the moment he stepped into the war camps a week ago. Kaladin had to remind himself of Pashil's words, that this was just an attempt to force him from his shards. He took a deep breath as Sadeas' commanders looked to see his response. Laskal, his own battalion commander, was taking particular notice.

"Thought I might go without it today" Kaladin said. "After all, it does feel rather nice out, wouldn't you agree, Remen?"

"Of course. I simply though good weather wouldn't be to hard to find out in the farmer's fields. I'd have gotten used to the occasion by now" Remen said with a smile. Kaladin forced a smile back that didn't reach his eyes. The boy was noted to have a mouth on him. He often dueled others for their blades, and had yet to win one in his thirteen bouts. He'd never challenged a Lord, he seemed to be at least smart enough to not do that, but he did rope anyone he could into a duel.

"I was a surgeon's apprentice actually" Kaladin said politely, mopping a bit of sauce up with his bread. He'd been so used to gruel and soldiers rations in Amaram's army that all this flavor and spice was making him a little ill. He looked up. The other battalion commanders and lieutenants looked at him, waiting to see if he'd come back with an insult. Kaladin desperately wanted to fulfill their wishes.

"Ah! A butcher of men? No wonder you sought the battlefield! You were probably shocked realized you actually were supposed to leave people alive after cutting them up!"

"Well, I'm afraid that's simply not the case..."

"I think I agree" Remen said. "A coward like you? No way you voluntarily went to the army. Probably was drafted there, and dragged to the lines kicking and screaming".

"Remen" Kaladin said, voice lowering. "I think the blade that I won, where so many _others_ failed, is evidence I'm no coward".

"Was that an insult at my dueling record, _stormblessed_?"

"Of course not! I wouldn't seek to insult a fellow officer, especially during a time of war when dueling would be needless" Kaladin said, pointedly at him.

"Ah, the war codes. A good cover up. But I think that-"

"Attempting to pick on our newest officer, Remen?"

Remen turned, spotting Sadeas standing behind him with regal robes, and a cocked eyebrow. Where most officers would blubber at this moment, Remen simply smiled at his High Prince.

"Of course not, brightness" He said, giving a curt bow, before sauntering off. Sadeas didn't mind. He seemed to enjoy rivalry among his officers.

"I believe" Sadeas said, turning toward Kaladin, "We were to talk about your position in my army". Kaladin nodded, standing as he dabbed his mouth with a napkin. Sadeas looked down at Kaladin's hand, and Kaladin followed his gaze, noticing that he had been white knuckling his dinner knife throughout Remen's conversation. He dropped it, watching it clatter on the wood table, it's handle slightly bent.

"Sorry" He said "I can pay for that out of my salary, I-"

"No worries" Sadeas said. "It's not ours. Come". He beckoned him with his hand, and Kaladin followed, sparing a glance back at the knife.

As they walked, Kaladin chastised himself for his behavior. He'd come _that_ close to a full out insult on Remen. The man- no, the boy was simply infuriating. Like a small dog yapping at everything to prove to the wolves how loud and powerful he was. Kaladin desperately wanted to send his fist through the his chin, and spit right into his dazed light eyes as he walked passed.

And that was the most frustrating part of all of this. It wasn't that Kaladin couldn't touch him right now. Though he did want to fight him, he could restrain himself from doing so. It was that he knew he could beat him in every other scenario then this one. Kaladin had seen Remen spar in Sadeas' training ground, and if they fought with spears, fists, knives, or anything else, Kaladin would come out on top. Storms, he was fairly certain he'd even beat him with a regular sword, and he'd never even touched one before!

It was that they were fighting with Shard blades. Kaladin just didn't have the experience that Remen likely did. Shard blades took time to get used to. Kaladin was a natural with the spear the first time he picked one up, and he knew of others who were the same with their respective weapons, but shards weren't a weapon that such a thing was possible with. Their length, their unique abilities, their weight all made them too unnatural for anyone to just pick up and use effectively first try. Training helped him, yes, but he still had yet to spar against another shardbearer. He first had to wait for a order to be filed with the king to rent his second blade, so Yamithar and him could effectively spar.

That's why Kaladin couldn't fight him. Not because he wasn't better. Not because he wasn't a good warrior. Simply because Remen had held a shardblade in a duel about a dozen times, and Kaladin hadn't.

Kaladin whipped the door closed behind him, as Sadeas led him into his... Kaladin supposed it was a manor, but it more military-like than that due to their location. A residential redoubt, maybe? No, too small for that. They rounded a corner, before coming into Sadeas' war room, where several maps of the shattered plains hung on walls. He sat at a long table, while Kaladin simply stood.

Sadeas let out a content sigh as he sat, his chair high off the ground, enough to be eye level with Kaladin while he stood. Sadeas studied Kaladin as he folded his fingers in front of his face. Kaladin stood with his hands behind his back. This wasn't his first time in front of a General, but he still found himself a bit nervous. He needed to tread lightly here. Sadeas nodded to himself a bit, before speaking.

"I'm happy to have another shardbearer within my army. Especially one that took his blade from a rival kingdom".

"Thank you, brightness" Kaladin said, trying to be as respectful as possible. He half expected to hear resentment when Sadeas said the word "blade", but either none leaked behind his poker face, or he held none at all.

"You're in a unique position, young man. A dark eyes... in your rank..."

"I've had quite a few marvel at it thus far, Bright Lord".

"I bet you have. Know that I'll be treating you like any other officer in my ranks. You'll have no harsher treatment, but no special privileges either".

"I expected as much, my Lord".

"But I have yet to tell you my expectations from officers" Sadeas said, eyeing him. "You'll work under one of my best commanders, and he will train you in tactics, battlefield command, and the like".

"General Laskal?"

"You've met him. Good. Do you have any experience commanding?"

"I worked as a captain under Bright Lord Amaram".

"Ah, yes, I remember him saying you were one of the better ones, if I'm not mistaken. Good. Then I expect nothing but flawlessness. Mistakes are, and will be, punished. The severity is determined by the severity of your flaws" Kaladin got the message wide and clear. Mess up, and he will likely either get closer to losing his shards, or lose them entirely. Kaladin intended not to mess up.

"Of course, Bright Lord".

"Now, I'm putting you in charge of A quarter of Laskal's battalion. Of course, I don't expect you to be a fine general right now. Laskal will have another captain leading your section until your battlefield ability is well enough to take over"

"Thank you for your generosity, sir"

"Of course. I expect you to represent me well. My enemies are your enemies. My rivals are yours. If you are unsure of who these are, I expect you to learn quickly, before you're seen... fraternizing with those you should not be". Kaladin nodded at this. He would probably just stay at Sadeas' camp, unless he specifically had to go to another camp.

"Understood, brightness".

"You now own a parcel of land in my domain" Kaladin blinked at this. He owned land now? "You will receive a quarterly tax from them, that you can withdraw at any point from the treasuries, and levy as you see fit. They're mostly farmlands, no villages or cities. Do well enough, and I'll see to it that such a thing changes".

"Thank you, sir".

"Of course." Sadeas then leaned in towards Kaladin "And one last word of warning, young man. I-" In the distance, a horn blared, giving Sadeas pause. He looked up at Kaladin.

"What wa-" Sadeas held up a finger, silencing Kaladin. Another horn blared. A servant came into Sadeas' room, and he nodded at him. The servant shouted behind the door.

"Sound the calling horn!"

"Calling horn, sir?" Kaladin asked.

"Yes, for battle. It appears as though a gem heart has made it's presence known on a nearby plateau. Which means you" He pointed at Kaladin, "Need to suit up".

* * *

Kaladin rode along side Laskal, and two other battalion commanders, with their own subordinates. Sadeas rode in front of all of them, shard plate glistening red against the sunlight. Kaladin's own plate had yet to be removed of it's paint, and he felt like a giant target for arrows in the color. Laskal did not have any plate, but another of his subordinates had a set. Laskal had won them during the unification wars by King Gavilar, but he gave them up two years ago. He was an older man, and was more suited as a general than a shardbearer. He had no son, so he gave his plate to his finest warrior, Colishad.

Colishad's shard plate was a violet-red, a brow raising choice. Kaladin had been told the feminine color was the result of a recent lost bet, and it was originally an orange-red. He didn't personally care either way. Kaladin already though painting plate was an ludicrous. The fact that this man did it in a eye-catching color on the basis of a lost bet only made Kaladin's respect for him wane even further. Though, Kaladin took a moment to curb his own pride by reminding himself that he was also wearing painted plate.

The man seemed to be taking embarrassment and not a small amount of concealed laughs in stride. Despite this, he wore a decorative orange and crimson cloak over the plate, with Sadeas' symbol weaved on the back. This was usually only done in parades or feasts. While there was no particular rule against it in battle, it was generally understood that a cloak would hamper movement. Kaladin added this to the list of thing he already didn't like about the man. Taking an obvious disadvantage to mend your wounded ego, which was in that state by your own doing in the first place, was simply and fundamentally stupid.

Colishad had the plate, but he had no blade. Kaladin was the only full shardbearer in Sadeas' army. He also hadn't missed the fact that he was part of a battalion that already had a shardbearer. He'd caught some of the hostile glances the other battalion lords shot at Laskal because of this. The man didn't pay them any heed. Nonetheless, Kaladin still felt embarrassed on his behalf.

He understood the reasoning behind him being in this particular battalion. Many new officers in training thought it was best for one to spread shardbearers out among different parts of the battle where they were needed. This was actually a mistake. Lone shardbearers were almost always easier to take down. Added to that, a dedicated battalion that held all shardbearers allowed an easier time in punching through lines, routing troops, and especially breaking enemy morale. One usually thought that the most valuable thing about shard bearers was their combat ability. This actually wasn't true. It was their morale ability. Their own troops would be encouraged to fight, while enemies would be more likely to flee.

When the "shard battalion" took down their specific section, or caused them to rout, they could then move on to support other battalions, flank enemies, and so on. With two shardbearers in Laskal's battalion, who was likely the most experienced general in Sadeas' army, the opportunity for tactics like flanking, charges, and maneuvers increased dramatically.

This idea would normally be accepted in most armies, and any squabbling was usually, and promptly, crushed. This wasn't the case for Alethi armies. Competition and rivalry always ran deep in Alethi culture, and despite cooperation being the smarter choice in a military, there was still heated hostility and ambition rife among the leaders. It was one of the reasons that unifying the Alethi only happened twice in history, one being recently.

And Sadeas not only condoned this behavior in his officers, but encouraged it.

Laskal was currently mincing words with another commander, on the eve of battle no less. Sadeas simply rode along without a care, not reigning his officers in, and not paying them any heed. Kaladin thought Sadeas simply inept in discipline, but it was a calculated risk. He enjoyed rivalry in his camp. He held a very strong "survival of the fittest" mentality, and as such he allowed his commanders to argue, compete, and prove who was the strongest.

Kaladin rode in silence, hating it all. He had longed to travel to the shattered plains so he could finally take part in a real army, where things were organized, and meaningful, and where the officers were actually disciplined and focused, not squabbling and bickering. Now that he was here, it felt like the organization the army had was only there out of necessity, instead of desire. If they had their way, they would sprawl into infighting and turmoil, but as long as they warred with the Parshendi, they had to keep some semblance of unity so they didn't get driven off and humiliated.

Kaladin himself felt nervous, though not because he was afraid of battle. He knew Sadeas was going to be watching him, judging him, marking all his flaws and errors. He felt like a young boy during his surgery tests, holding the weight of his father's strict gaze. Nonetheless, he steeled himself. Nervousness did no good for battle, and he wasn't some green spear man waiting to see his first engagement.

"Daydreaming, Lieutenant Kaladin?" Kaladin glanced up, seeing Laskal ride along side him, apparently done with his conversation. They crossed a bridge over the chasm, as Kaladin noted with a tang of pity the sorry bridge men laying off to the side.

"No, bright lord. Simply going over tactics and strategy in my head, in case something happens and I'm left in charge of the battalion" Laskal smiled at him.

"Don't worry about that. Battalion Lords usually stay in the back, and send runners with their orders. The likelihood of me dying is minimal, Lieutenant"

"Speaking of which, sir, where do you want me in the ranks?"

"Nowhere. I don't even want you fighting" Kaladin started at this. He looked up to him.

"Sir?"

"You're not proven. I can't be putting you in the front lines just yet. The risk of losing your plate and blade to the Parshendi outweighs what usefulness you'd be right now, at least until you get a bit more experience under your belt".

"Sir, I've been in combat for years now! I can fight, I ca-"

"Lieutenant" He said in the commanding tone that Kaladin had heard from his officers so many times, "I'm not doubting that you are a fine warrior. The mere fact you wear that plate is proof that you are phenomenal in battle".

"Then you know what I can do!" Kaladin said. Of course this was happening! How could he expect any light eyes to let a dark eyes have _their_ glory in battle? The fact that Kaladin wasn't even fighting for glory made it all the more frustrating. But what could he expect fro-

"Of course I know. Nobody wins plate by luck, no matter what the rumors about you might say" Kaladin stored away the fact that rumors were circulating about him for a later time, "...Winning against a shardbearer shows that you have more skill than any infantryman I can think of in my battalion, maybe even in all of Sadeas' army".

"But you still won't let me fight" Kaladin said, bitterness on his tongue. Kaladin's frustration bubbled inside him. He needed to be on a battlefield right now! If he didn't start proving himself to Sadeas, then-

" _Because_ " Laskal said, "being a shardbearer is different. People naturally notice you. Groups will swarm you all at once. You are never just fighting one or two opponents. It is constantly fighting full squads, before killing them and moving onto the next. People with little experience in stuff like that tend to go down easier than you'd think".

Kaladin hesitated with his retort. That... made sense. He never had been in battle with his plate and blade yet, and he didn't know what to really expect. He understood the logic, but he hated the decision. The threat of Sadeas was ever looming. He felt like a great shell was rushing him, and instead of running, he was just taking a leisurely stroll to get away. More than that, he hated not fighting when others died. It made him feel so useless.

"Trust me, Lieutenant" He said, "If your worried about your pride... well, some might use this as an excuse to make fun, but most understand. All new shardbearers go through this period. Your time to fight will come. I'll ease you in, let you participate in engagements we have no danger of losing so you can get a feel for it. As of right now, though, I want you to stay back with me. Watch Lieutenant Colishad, and study how he fights".

"...Okay... I hold you to that" He hated having to swallow his pride, both with not fighting, and acknowledging Colishad as the superior shardbearer.

"Also" Laskal said, "You'll be studying how I lead, my tactics, my strategies, and so on. You took the spot of someone who I've been prepping for five years to take control of this battalion. I was about ready to retire, but he... either way, it doesn't matter. What matters is that your the heir to my battalion, and I'm not leaving it until I'm sure it's in good hands. Understand?"

"Yes sir"

"Good. Eyes forward, Lieutenant".

And Kaladin did keep his eyes forward. The plateau they were travelling to was coming over the horizon. At first, he thought it was dotted with lots of crem, or perhaps greatshell droppings. It took him a moment to realize that this was a Parshendi army. He was surprised by how... jumbled it seemed. It looked more like a mob, with no real structure, than a series of fortified units. There was cohesion, of course. The crowd did seem split up in specific locations, fortifying the plateau, but there were still no rank and files, no visible attempts at common phalanx formations, not even any shield walls.

When the army finally arrived at the chasm, he looked out to see ranks upon ranks of Parshendi. He'd never seen so many in one place before. It was... startling. He'd gone against armies before, but never at this scale, and never against an enemy so... inhuman. He shook his head, steeling himself. He was a soldier. Not some recruit who hadn't even seen battle yet. Added to that, he wouldn't even be fighting, so why in the world was he scared?

Kaladin looked around. He didn't know exactly what the troops would be doing. The bridge men would need to get to the chasm, and with the Parshendi on the other side, bows at the ready, they would need to find some way of getting them there. Would they form a shield wall in front of them? They would need to eventually let them set the bridge down, which would ensure a few casualties.

Added to that, the bridge men were likely exhausted right now. Running all this was had to be tiring, especially when they were given little chance for breaks, in their rush to reach here first. How would they-

"Charge!"

Kaladin looked to the commander of the bridge crews. He stood off to the side, a man in an eye patch beside him. As he called the command, he looked out at the bridge crews with hate in his eyes, and... muted pleasure.

Kaladin watched as the bridge crews ran out against a hail of arrows. What were they doing? That was utter suicide! He reared his horse, ready to charge with the army so they could support, before he looked around. Nobody was moving. Nobody was advancing to form a shield wall. They all simply stood there, looking at the bridge men, some with satisfaction, some with calculating eyes, some with pity.

The arrows swarmed through the sky like a cloud of gnats, as the bridge men charged to their death. Kaladin watched the arrows thud into the bridge. Carrying it above their heads made natural cover from above, and many of the arrows thudded into the wood, like hairs standing up on a giant's arm. Even still, the men had no covering anywhere else, and a plentiful number of them fell to the barbs.

One boy fell to the ground, an arrow through his thigh. That didn't kill him by any means, but he was simply trampled underfoot by the bridge men behind him. Kaladin's mind fell into it's surgeon training at the sight of it. For all of soldier Kaladin's gruffness, surgeon Kaladin was possibly the only one who wouldn't be revolted at this... who wouldn't take a sideways glance away from this... who wouldn't think of Tien during this.

 _Multiple blunt-force trauma wounds. Has broken bones, ribs, and fractures. Likely has internal bleeding, concussion, and possible organ failure. Wound bleeding from arrow puncture. Leg should be tied off and wound pressurized. Arrow not to be removed until proper cauterization is ready. Likelihood of survival is slim to near impossible. Bed rest for multiple months needed in unlikely case of survival, with wounds being treated regularly with disinfectant._

Kaladin noticed the boy had died before he even got halfway through his prognosis.

A second, and even a third wave of arrows would come down on the bridge men like a hammer to an anvil, before the crews began to close in on the cavern, and the Parshendi devolved to simply free firing. Bridges that lost too many men often veered off to the side, like an injured deer from the pack, before stumbling down. Ones that were particularly low on men were targeted in order to stop as many bridges as possible. Even still, the battered and bleeding bridge men fumbled the bridges into place, the cavalry already charging down the hill, with the infantry behind them.

Kaladin looked at Laskal for some form of explanation for what just happened. Laskal spared him a glance, before closing his eyes, shaking his head, and looking back on the field. Kaladin thought he might have seen some pain in the man's blue eyes. But the more Kaladin thought about it, the more he realized what had truly happened. With the fact that everyone was content to watch the bridge men catch arrows, and save themselves the threat, he knew that it must have been a trick of the light to see remorse in his eyes.

Eyes those color couldn't show remorse. not for anything but themselves.


End file.
